


Stowaway

by dracox_serdriel



Series: Her Dark Works [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Meetings, First Time, Revenge, Smut, The Enchanted Forest, The Jolly Roger, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-11-18
Packaged: 2018-05-01 22:40:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5223707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracox_serdriel/pseuds/dracox_serdriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Captain Hook goes to a tavern on a night of shore leave. The last thing he expects is to find someone as desperate to defeat the Dark One as himself.</p><p><strong>Her Dark Works</strong> takes place in an alternate universe where Emma Swan was born and raised in the Enchanted Forest. One day, things go horribly wrong, and she abandons her birthright and throne to seek revenge on the Dark One. What happens when a woman born to be the Savior of the Realm joins forces with the Vengeful Pirate of Neverland?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One Night Only

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Captain Hook orders one night of shore leave before The Jolly Roger sets sail on a promising lead for information about destroying the Dark One.

Killian Jones never objected to the moniker Captain Hook. In his mind, Captain Jones had been and would always be his brother, Captain Liam Jones, and he didn't deserve to share that name.

At least, that's what he told himself. 

The Jolly Roger had run into a pod of mermaids on its last mission, and their escape had cost him several crew members and nearly all their ammunition. After giving his men a proper burial at sea, he set sail to the closest port.

"One night only, men!" he announced. "We dock at dawn, and after the ship is stocked, there will be exactly one night of leave. So mind your duties quickly lest you miss your chance at the taverns."

Hook didn't intend to spend much time off his ship, for he received word that a man in the Southern Isles near Arendelle had magic that could find any object given a picture of it. And it just so happened that he had a drawing of the Dark One Dagger, which meant that he would finally have a weapon to destroy the Dark One.

Even with the enchanted speed of the Jolly Roger, the journey would take nearly a month, as they had to sail to the other side of the Enchanted Forest before even beginning the trek to Arendelle. Hook had waited long for his vengeance, so only one night of shore leave.

So that night after the ship was stocked, he went out to the tavern for a few drinks, fully intending to retire early.

His crew took the night as an opportunity to sing, celebrate, and enjoy themselves, and Hook didn't want to dampen their spirits. So he sat by himself in the corner of the tavern, drinking fine scotch as an indulgence.

"Seems like you and I have something in common," someone said. 

Hook planned to reject company for the night, but he promptly forgot his plans when he saw who was speaking. The woman in question was a goddess: long blond hair, lean but muscular, and armed with at least two knives and a sword. She sat at his table without invitation.

"Sorry, love, I'm not sure I know what you mean," he said.

"Scotch," she replied.

"Indeed, though in the name of fair play, I should warn you I'm more of a rum man meself. Should I ask what a woman like you is doing in a place like this?"

"Does that line ever work?"

"Quite often, actually."

"Then I suppose there's no reason it shouldn't work on me," she said. 

Had he been drinking at his normal pace, his jaw would've dropped at her forwardness. Surely a woman with her looks could have whatever man she wanted.

"You see, I'm essentially a dead woman," she continued. "I have this plan to destroy the person who ruined my life, and chances are I won't survive it."

"So you thought you'd commiserate with someone you assumed to be a fellow distraught soul?" he asked.

"I thought I'd have one more wild night with the most passionate man I could find," she replied. "Assuming you were willing, of course."

"And what makes gives me such a distinct qualification as 'most passionate man'?"

"Do you really want to sit here, talking? Or would you prefer inviting me back to your place?"

"On one condition," he said. "Your name, lass."

"Emma Swan."

"Killian Jones, but most call me Captain Hook. Care to join me for an evening aboard my ship, Emma Swan?"

There was no reason to look a gift horse in the mouth. He paid his tab and escorted the lady back to the Jolly Roger, musing that he had, at the very least, left the tavern early.

* * *

Emma Swan hadn't lied to the man. She expected her revenge to cost her own life, and she wouldn't mind more passion in her life before that came to pass. That being said, she hadn't randomly selected him, though she accidentally ran into him - the infamous Captain Hook. She'd heard stories.

He wasn't at all what she expected. She had watched him for nearly an hour in that tavern as he sat alone with the most peculiar look on his face. He radiated an energy that was captivating.

He led her back to his ship and straight to his quarters with not a word passing between them. She liked that. He offered her a nightcap, but she didn't want alcohol fogging up her memory.

Emma hadn't done this before, a one-night stand with a stranger, so she wasn't sure how to get things started. So she grabbed his collar and dragged him into a kiss, and he responded in kind, wrapping his arms around her. 

Metal on metal. His hook clashed with her sheathed sword.

"Perhaps we should disarm," he suggested. 

She took off her belt, which had two knives and her sword, and he did likewise. She proceeded to remove the dagger she kept in her boot and a few other small weapons she had tucked away for a rainy day.

"I love a woman who's armed," he whispered as he came up behind her, pulling her tight to him. 

He kissed her neck as his hand slipped around to her chest, slowly exploring the landscape of her tunic. His grip and breath on her shoulder gave her a strange, warm sensation in her stomach. The slow touch of his fingers through fabric was more than enough to harden her nipples.

He nipped at her eat and said, "Though I must warn you, love, if this is some kind of ruse - "

She seized his hand and spun around to face him, drawing him in for another kiss. He pushed her against the wall, pinning her arms and looking into eyes. For a moment, she thought he might start talking again, but he didn't.

He released her and his took her chin, pulling her into a long, drawn out kiss, slipping his tongue into her mouth, and tugging on her bottom lip with his teeth. It was surprising and wonderful.

Her hands found his hair and hips, and his arms went around her back, dragging her away from the wall. She began to undo the buttons on his vest, and he likewise undid her clothing. He relieved her of her doublet and tunic as she removed his vest.

Skin touched skin, and it felt hot, electric. His lips moved down her neck to her collarbone and then along the line of her bra. She was ready to rip off the rest of their garments to move things along, but he took his time nibbling at her neck, kissing her stomach, slowly descending.

He dragged his teeth over her hip bones, and she released the moan she had been holding back. He made quick work of her trousers and socks, giving her the slightest push toward the bed, where she sat on the edge, looking over Hook's physique. 

His torso was muscular and lean with tattoos on his arm, one of which was of a name: Milah. Emma made a mental note not to ask him who she was.

He started to close the gap between them, but she put out her leg, her foot catching him in the thigh.

"Pants, off. Now," she said.

When he hesitated, she moved her foot to a more central location, and he hissed at the pressure.

"You are not a common bar wench, Swan."

He stripped to his skivvies, and what a sight he was: solid, sinewy, and scarred. His pupils were so dilated his eyes seemed black rather than blue. He was beautiful.

She reached behind her back and clasped her bra, slowly slipping it off, making a show of it for him. 

Then he pounced. He dragged her the rest of the way onto the bed, pinning her again. His knee came up between her legs as he captured her in another kiss, taking her breath away in more ways than one. She bucked against him as he grinded his knee up, rubbing her clit, releasing another moan from her.

His hand found her nipple and teased it before his lips and teeth replaced his fingers, which trailed down her flank and slipped into her panties. She grabbed his lower back and let her hands move down to his glutes to pull him closer.

His fingers just brushed against her clit, leisurely, before he slipped one inside. She hadn't realized how wet she'd gotten, but between his ministrations of her breasts and his lips, everywhere, he was driving her to the edge.

* * *

This woman would be the death of him. 

She refused a nightcap, wasn't much for talking, and was easily the most beautiful creature he laid eyes on in a hundred years. Part of him felt as if she must be too good to be true, but another part of him didn't care. He wanted to see her desperate with want, begging and pleading for more. 

"So wet for me, love?" he said as he plunged two fingers inside her. His thumb circled her clit, eliciting another lovely moan as her fingers bobbed in and out.

He had been hard since their first kiss, but Emma Swan gave the impression of a woman who wouldn't be satisfied with anything less than two rounds. Normally, he'd take his time with foreplay, especially touching and tasting, but when he glanced at her face, he saw her eyes were black with hunger. And her entire body was flushed and tense. 

Time to speed things along.

He worked his way down to her center. He kissed her inner thighs and took his time removing her very saturated panties. Then he kissed his way back up her leg, feeling her body tighten with expectation. She released a growl of frustration when he hovered at her hips. 

Hook was frustrated, too. He wanted nothing more than to grab her and throw himself onto her, pounding into her until she came undone. But not yet. 

He slid his tongue over her clit, and the response he got was well worth the wait. She nearly screamed in pleasure as his fingers continued in and out, in and out, while his tongue darted this way and that. She bucked and keened, and a few minutes later she went over the edge, climaxing and not holding back anymore. As she came down from it, he slipped out of his boxers and climbed over her, his body covering hers. 

She gave him a wicked smile before he kissed her, and suddenly they were reversed. He was on his back, and she straddled his stomach. His heart began to race even faster. What was this woman doing to him?

She moved down his body slowly, nipping and sucking at the sensitive spots, and she brought their centers together, hovering just out of reach, as if daring him. 

He couldn't wait any longer. He wrapped his hook arm around her waist and his hand dug into her hip as he pulled her down. She resisted, her hands on his chest, slowing her descent, forcing him to wait as she lowered herself onto his incredibly wanting erection. He felt like he was losing his mind. She was so slick and tight, and as he filled her, his body ached for more. To be deeper.

When their hips met, she made a sound that told him she was right where he was, and all he wanted now was to make her feel everything. Her thrusts were slow and deliberate, and the look on her face was a challenge: go on, pirate, take me.

He flipped them and held her legs at his shoulders. He considered leaning over and kissing her, but he wanted to watch her come undone.

He started the thrusts like she did, slow and shallow. He built up speed and depth quickly, and if her moaning was any indication, she enjoyed it. She matched his thrusts and clenched around him, as if daring him to come too soon.

His mouth watered as he stared at her beneath him. She was a beautiful mess: hot red and wrecked. Every thrust made her entire body tremble, and when he got a good rhythm going, her breasts bounced in sync with it. He wasn't going to last much longer, so he leaned to kiss her and coax her along. Her legs came up and around him, begging him to go deeper, to stay deeper, and he obliged her.

He was never much for sentiment, but for some reason his hand got tangled up in one of hers, and he couldn't help but study the ecstasy on her face as he thrust harder and harder into her. 

She screamed his name as her back arched, and she nearly bucked him off as her walls tightened around on him, throwing him over the edge. He exploded inside her, calling her name, as he rode the orgasm out.

Then he collapsed next to her in bed, sweaty and spent and desperately wanting more.

"Bloody hell," he muttered.

"I bet you that all the time," she replied, playfully touching his lips.

She was definitely going to be the death of him.

* * *

Hook always woke up at dawn. Something about his body's natural clock made it so. The spectacular Emma Swan, however, was already gone. 

As he cleaned himself up for the day, he wondered if she had snuck off the ship after the fourth round of sex, or if she had managed to get some sleep before being on her way. He wondered what would become of her and her mission of her revenge.

It wasn't that he had any intention of going after her, but to meet a soul so much like his own was rare. And, frankly, he would relish seeing her again.

So Captain Hook went on deck with a smile on his face, knowing that at the very least, he'd met a woman that might well be his match.

* * *

The Jolly Roger set sail that morning, and the sea was calm with not a mermaid in sight. By the time night fell and he put his second in command in charge of the helm, Hook was ready for sleep, as he had gotten so little the night prior.

He knew something was wrong before he event set foot inside his quarters. He drew his cutlass and proceeded with short, measured steps, looking for anything out of place.

Like the blond in his bed. 

"You can put that away, Captain," she said. "If last night proved anything, I'm quite friendly." 

"I don't recall extending a maritime invitation, Swan."

"Does that make me a stowaway?"

"A stowaway on a pirate ship, lass," he replied. "Believe me, that's not a good thing. If you're lucky, I'll throw you to the mermaids."

"Something tells me you won't."

"That so? One night with me and you think - "

His heart skipped several beats when she held up a drawing of the Dark One Dagger.

"Did you come here to steal from me, Swan?"

"This?" she asked. "Don't be ridiculous. This one's mine. I decided I should stick around when I saw yours, which I left exactly where I found it."

Hook went over to his bookshelf and selected the hide-away book where he kept the drawing. Sure enough, it was still there.

"What do you care about the Dark One?" he asked. 

"He destroyed my life," she replied. "I told you I was on a vengeance mission."

Hook stared at the incredible woman from the night before. She stowed away on a bloody pirate ship just to speak with him again. Didn't she know it'd be two weeks before they reached the next port?

"The trouble is, Captain Hook, we seem to be on the same mission," she continued. "I could race you for it, or we could work together. Figured it was worth the risk of asking you - "

"That was a very foolish notion, love," he interrupted.

"Because I have magic," she said, completing her initial sentence.

"What kind of magic?"

"Light magic. I was born with it. And I have a few other tricks up my sleeve," she replied.

"I don't need tricks. If find this bloody dagger, I can kill him."

"And then you become him."

"Come again?"

"Whoever kills the Dark One with the dagger becomes the next Dark One," she explained. "Which isn't something I'm interested in. What about you?"

"Hardly. I'm a pirate not a sorcerer."

"See Captain, we're already helping each other."

"And what if I tell you that on this ship, any stowaway is a criminal and therefore my prisoner?" he asked, drawing his sword.

"I'll be more than happy to spend my time in the brig or be shackled in here if that's what you demand," she replied. "I'm a lot more like you than you seem to think. I need to destroy the Dark One, no matter the personal cost. So, Captain, lock me up, chain me up, but don't deny me this."

Those words could've easily come out of his mouth, and he heard sincerity. At the very least, she wasn't lying about her desire for revenge, so for now, he'd keep her close.

He sheathed his sword.

"Then, for now you'll be staying aboard as my guest," he said. "But if you have lied to me about any of this, Swan, you will deeply regret it."


	2. Two Man Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma attempts to convince Hook that revenge could be a two-man job, but he doubts her intentions.

Emma could tell she hadn't convinced the pirate. Not yet. He agreed to have her aboard as a guest only because locking her in the brig would make detecting her true intentions nearly impossible.

"Tell me, what's your feud with the Crocodile?" he asked, leaning against his desk, his hand never leaving the hilt of his cutlass.

"No."

"No?" he repeated. "Do you really expect me to believe that a woman such as you wants to cut down the most dangerous creature in all the realms without knowing the reason?"

"I said 'no' because I won't play the whose-vengeance-is-most-due game."

"I assure you, that is not my intent."

She hesitated. For the first time since he returned to his cabin, she felt uneasy. She had learned a little about him the night before and even more from examining his personal possessions during the day. He wasn't the kind of man to toss a woman he spent the night with into the sea just for stowing away, and he definitely wouldn't harm anyone who could provide him with information that could fuel his revenge. But she had no idea if he would believe her story, and if he deemed her story fiction, there was no telling how he'd react.

"Keep in mind that you just stowed away on a pirate ship, and remaining a guest here is contingent upon this particular answer, love," he added.

To buy herself time to think, she shifted to sit on the edge of his bed instead of lying across it.

"You won't believe me," she said.

"I'm afraid I must insist."

"The Dark One was responsible for the murder of the man I loved. Also for banishing a friend, my son, and my parents to another land."

"So you have living family, yet you seek revenge?" he asked. "Why not simply join those he banished?"

"I can't."

"If what you said is true, that you have magic, then you must know something of traversing realms," he replied. He continued on with smugness heavy in his voice. "At the very least, you must know one ship, namely the Jolly Roger, is known for this particular feat. That is why you're really here, isn't it, Swan? To seduce her Captain and petition him to take you back to your loved ones?"

"I've heard stories of the Jolly Roger, yes," she replied. "It can cross - "

"She," he interjected. "Best remember to give her due respect now that she's all that's between you and the depths of the ocean."

"Sorry," she said. "She can cross into any realm that has magic, but even she needs a portal to reach a Land without Magic. The Dark One destroyed the only one that leads there. No way for them to return, no way for me to go to them. I spent two years trying."

He didn't respond, but he seemed to believe her. 

"Your turn."

He lifted his hook. "He took my hand and my love. That's all you get to know."

A stiff silence settled between them.

"So Captain, am I still here as a guest?" she asked.

"Aye, love, for now."

* * *

He wasn't sure what to make of the woman in his quarters. Everything about her said that she had survived a great loss. Her words were genuine, but he could tell she was holding something back.

He decided she could have her secret for the time being.

"Very well, Swan, tell me how you plan on defeating the Dark One without becoming him."

"There is a spell that can take his dark magic, all of it, and lock it away forever. No more Dark One. He returns to being an ordinary man, flesh and blood, with no magic."

"I could run him through or stab him with my hook, and he would die?"

"Yes." 

"Seems to me that you have all you need for your vengeance," Hook said. "You have the spell and the power. So what is it that I'm bringing to the table?"

"There's one more thing I need for the spell," she said. "And the only way to get it is a two-man job."

"Do go on, lass, you've my full attention."

"I... we need the dagger for part of the spell. He keeps it hidden away under layers of protection spells and traps, so going in and getting it isn't an option. We need to get him to bring it out."

"My confidence in you is wavering, Swan. The Crocodile is many things, but he's hardly foolish. He'd never risk that dagger falling into the wrong hands."

"You're right, he wouldn't," she said. "Not unless he needed it to get something he desperately wanted." 

"And what might that be?"

"The contents of a box from a powerful sorcerer. It can only be opened with the dagger."

"So, you have a magic box, and you plan to use it to steal his dagger. Please tell me there's more."

"I told you, it's a two-man job. One of us lures him, the other stuns him," she explained. "I take his dagger, perform the spell, and you kill him."

"You're quite resourceful. I'm sure you could find a way to kill the Crocodile without my assistance. So I'll ask again, why bother with an allegiance?"

She didn't reply, but the look on her face was more than enough explanation.

"You've never killed anyone before, have you?" he asked.

"I've fought in battles," she replied defensively. "Killed ogres. Destroyed monsters. When I was fifteen, I slew a dragon."

"But this is different. Delivering a mortal wound while defending your home or on the battlefield, that's one thing. But hunting a man down and slaughtering him in cold blood... you've never done that before, have you?"

"No," she said quietly. "And if I lose my nerve and let him live, he might find a way to regain his power."

And there it was. She needed the Crocodile dead just as much as he did, but she didn't have the stomach for playing judge, jury, and executioner. She needed a pirate for that, which meant there was little chance that she'd double cross him by taking vengeance herself.

"Well, Swan, it seems we have an accord," he said with a smile. "But it doesn't include you having the best bed on my ship, so unless you plan for a repeat performance of last night, I suggest you make due with the medical cot stowed over there for the night."

Emma stood up, her lips curling into a wry smile. As she crossed his quarters, he made his way to his bed slightly disappointed that she'd turned down his offer.

Arms came around him, and he felt her body press against his back, vaguely aware that his cutlass and her sword clanged together. In his defense, he was a bit distracted by the whispering in his ear.

"Why wouldn't I want a repeat performance?"

He turned and grabbed her, pulling her into a long, wet kiss that only broke apart when his lungs demanded breath. He barely registered it as both their belts slid off. Emma had undone them without his notice.

Crafty.

Her hands now free, she initiated the next kiss, one fisted in his hair while the other started on his vest buttons. Hook looked into her eyes and saw they were just as black with desire as his own.

Surely this woman would be the death of him.

* * *

Emma woke up, like clockwork, just before dawn. When she was younger, she blamed it on the bird song. Her mother loved birds, all kinds, and her presence usually attracted them. But out on the sea, there was little more than a distant sound of gulls.

Hook's body pressed against hers, skin on skin. He was essentially spooning her, his left arm curled around her. The bed could fit two adults, but it wasn't made for it.

She hadn't expected to enjoy his company so much. It wasn't just the sex, although that was more than enough reason. Something about being with someone who knew the pain she lived with eased her burdens.

Emma wasn't fooling herself. She was acutely aware that she knew almost nothing about this man. He lived as a pirate, which meant that, at the very least, he plundered and stole from others. He undoubtedly did far worse in his time, too, but he had some semblance of honor. 

She smiled as she replayed the night's events over in her head. He hadn't held back this time, and she let her fingers run over the marks he left on her breasts, neck, and inner thighs. She realized that it had been a long time since she'd woken up content.

It wasn't about him, not exactly. Being on the same mission of self-destruction freed her from the necessity of a connection because, when this was all over, she would be done. The Dark One had stolen her future, and that made things like regret and safety mean nothing to her. That was why she could lie naked next to a dangerous man she barely knew and smile without reservation.

Or at least, that was what she told herself.

And, for the first time in a long time, she didn't care what the day might bring.


	3. Dread Pirate Emily

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Captain Hook explains the expectations and requirements of a Captain's guest aboard his ship.

Hook never minded waking up with a woman, even one who hogged the bed, forcing him to sleep with his back against the wall.

He shouldn't be smiling, or he shouldn't be smiling about her. His smile should be about the fact that he was finally closing in on the Crocodile he promised to skin, not the naked siren in his bed. He steeled himself. There was no time for distractions, not when he was this close.

He inhaled deeply, and the scent of her - her hair, her skin, her sweat - wafted in with it, drawing out his memories from the night before. And the night before that.

Perhaps a smile for the lady next to him wasn't _entirely_ amiss. She had, after all, convinced a rather unforgiving pirate captain to ignore the fact that she had stowed away on his ship.

She stirred, revealing that she was awake, though she apparently had no interest in rising at the moment. He certainly didn't.

Unfortunately, the revelation of a stowaway, even one declared his personal guest, required special handling, which meant a lie-in couldn't happen. 

When he served the realm as a sailor, women were never allowed to board the ship, much less to serve on the crew. People insisted that having women aboard was dangerous, usually for superstitious reasons, so the military only accepted male crew members, even when it became nigh impossible to fill certain positions.

Before he became a pirate, Hook rejected the notion that female shipmates meant catastrophe, and after, he willfully accepted women as crew members, especially those with skills, so long as they were pirates that accepted him as their captain. Many of his men previously served as sailors in royal fleets or mariners for merchants, and the only way to overcome their years of indoctrinated superstition was to produce a sort of counter-superstition about ladies aboard, especially if she was a lady pirate. By the time Milah came along, no one questioned an additional female hand on deck.

He closed his eyes. Thinking of Milah in this moment felt like a bucket of cold water. Strange. He thought about her every day despite the bittersweet melancholy of lost love, but he rarely regretted it.

Back to the business at hand, then. 

He forced himself to open his eyes and wake properly. The woman in bed with him might indeed be a siren or a goddess or a demon like himself, but as of today, she must become, first and foremost, a pirate.

* * *

Hook rolled over her and out of bed, quickly donning a pair of clean shorts.

"Good morning," she said as she stretched out.

"Indeed," he replied. "Apologies for the rude awakening, love, but we do have matters to attend to. You can hardly hide in my quarters all day. Even the most passive of minds is liable to go stir crazy."

"I can amuse myself."

"Perhaps, but a true guest of the Captain wouldn't be hidden from the crew," he explained. "Which brings us to your garments, or rather, the garments you'll be wearing today."

"This is some kind of weird pirate joke," Emma said. "Right?"

"It's not as if I'm ordering you to swab the decks, Swan," he replied. "I'm merely suggesting that you adjust your apparel to match the situation at hand."

"You said we wouldn't be stopping for another two weeks."

"Aye."

"Then where will this new apparel come from?" she asked. "I doubt we're the same size."

He used his hook to pull open one of the many compartments in his quarters, and she was surprised to see that it was a large, deep drawer with an odd assortment of clothing.

Emma left the warmth of the bed to retrieve undergarments from her traveling bag. She put them on, smiling when she noticed that Hook's eyes followed her until she began riffling through the drawer's content. As he dressed, she examined the cinchers, bolero jackets, blouses, sashes, trousers, and belts. They were all women's styles and sizes and made only from the finest materials.

She remembered his tattoo from the night before: Milah. Was Hook offering her Milah's clothing? If so, why were there so many different sizes? She considered asking him if he cross-dressed, but then his words from the night before echoed through her mind.

_"He took my hand and my love. That's all you get to know."_

Each article of clothing was in fine condition, which meant he cared enough to keep them that way. The obvious reason was that at least some of them belonged to a person he cared deeply about, and the last thing she wanted was to force him to think about his lost love. So she held her tongue.

She found a pair of leather trousers that she could wear with her boots, along with a sash, doublet, cincher, and bolero. As she laid the clothes out, she realized that a disguise might not be a bad idea.

"Any chance you have a hat I can borrow?" she asked. 

Hook turned to her, apparently unaware she was still only in her underwear. The look he gave her made her heart skip several beats.

"I only ask because the last thing we need is the Dark One getting wind of me on your ship. I could do a glamor spell, but a hat to hide my hair would be easier."

"Aye, love, I'm sure I can find something suitable," he said. "Do you have a false name as well?"

"Uh... Emily."

Hook asked, "Well then, Emily, I'm sure you're hungry. One of my men will be outside that door in a few minutes with breakfast. It'd be best if you were attired by then."

She made quick work of dressing. The pants were tight in the hips but otherwise fit. The doublet was tight on her, too, and she abandoned the cincher when she realized it would interfere with her sash and belt. Finally, she donned the bolero. It wasn't entirely flattering, but it was far more swashbuckling than her normal getup. 

"So, am I the Dread Pirate Emily?" she asked.

"A fine name indeed," Hook replied. "But most pirates would not have a sword as fine as yours. Fret not, I have a remedy."

He went to his closet and selected a frock coat. Coming up behind her, he asked, "May I?"

"Yeah," she replied, slightly uncertain.

He removed the bolero in a way that could only be described as deliberately sensual, and he wrapped the long jacket around her. It was a deep, dark red and beautifully made.

"You'd let me wear this?" she asked.

"It will allow you to wear that sword of yours without anyone being the wiser," he replied. "Speaking of, care to explain how you came to acquire it?"

"It was my father's sword," she replied. "He gave it to me when I came of age."

* * *

"Breakfast Captain!" Deckhand Strike yelled from the other side of the door. "Permission to enter."

"Granted," Hook said.

Strike came in laden with fruit, water, bread, and cheese. He set out the meal, stopping dead when he caught sight of Emma.

"It's impolite to stare, Strike," he said.

"Sorry sir. Shall I brought another plate?"

"Aye, and remember it. Our guest shall be dining with me during her stay."

"Sorry sir," he said before he left. 

"Lady's first," Hook said, pulling out her chair.

"Chivalry on a pirate ship?"

"I'm sure you're used to more, your highness."

She didn't hide her surprise, which meant she hadn't assumed he had known she was a royal. Was that the secret she was hiding?

"Technically, your highness is my sister, Eva," she said.

Strike came back in with more food, giving her a short reprieve from the conversation, but as soon as he closed the door behind him, Hook pressed on.

"So you're not the Queen, just a princess? Does that make it any less of a deception?"

"Killian, I - "

"I do believe you have some explaining to do," he interrupted. He ignored the butterfly-like sensation in his stomach that bubbled up when she used his real name. "Best start now, or you may yet become acquainted with the brig."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fear not! Her Dark Works Series continues with Episode #2 [Dead Horse](http://archiveofourown.org/works/5241644/chapters/12091586)


End file.
